TWISTED FATE BEAUTIFIES

all pure hell

when the chest

inside was a fire pit.

the heart burnt

in tragic memories.

massive downs

in all the valleys.

slowly, it rejuvenated

and pumped along.

years later …

grandkids arrived.

easter 2012,

i was sitting

at a rectangle table,

and my three year old

granddaughter was sitting

off to the right side,

and my six year old grandson

was sitting across from me.

she said, ” i want to sit by you grandpa.”

so, i brought her around to my left side.

he said, “me too,”

and he came around

to my right side.

can you feel

what’s going on yet?

turnarounds are everything,

and this has a special twist to it

designed for attention.

i might be a forklift operator,

but i like being a poet better,

because it shows life.

so, i’m creating a new change.

all pure heaven.

MELTDOWN IN THE VERSE

blindfolded-

immobilized

in more ways than one.

undressed –

cuffed to the lines.

ritualistic –

submissive traits

under command of the master.

proven tactics-

sensual arousals,

though ingenuity leaves a flair

so cerebral through voice.

every factor

came into play

of all the excitement,

until that ice-cube

truly numbed the ecstasy

of what was once seventh heaven

the hard way

before the rules

took over at inception.

ALL THE WAY INTO BELLA

eyes of penetration,

easily animalistic here.

that look tells…

you want more

of the touch of skin,

like the snake

left behind in appearance.

 

all that wonder

of what is left,

is enough

to desire plenty of curiosity.

 

a clear glass of water

on the counter

speaks of that breath

of oxygen without seeing it –

yet vital in so many ways.

 

a smile of initial turn on;

the face of expression

is all too beautiful.

intellectualism on the tips of fingers –

prodding with the kind

of stimulation that a body first attracts.

 

pick up the snakeskin

and fill it with this –

attraction is sexier

when the inside is fulfilled.

 

isn’t beauty wonderful on the outside – this time?

SPIRAL

(this is an old one. it may fit more for lyrics that poetics, but i’ll find out.)

 

SPIRAL

 

Like a wall –

When your world crumbles,

A helping hand

Is what you need

To get you through the mess.

But the love You leave behind

Shatters into pieces,

As if a window blown In by a storm,

Leaving you empty and cold.

You pound your fists

Upon the pillow

Saying never again.

Then a knock comes upon your door –

You want to say go away,

But the pain lifts you up

Until you fall into the arms of a friend,

Where the tears

Run and land upon a soft shoulder

That will hold you in a gentle sway

Until you can begin to dance.

THE RESCUING SEDUCTRESS

that woman

who loves poetry,

is the one of beauty

with long sunshine hair

with a single braid

running down her back.

like calypso

the sea nymph,

she tended to him

in the grotto

with wonderful archways

and four fountains

in the seranading mists.

after time,

she led him outside

to a place away from the ocean,

where the hypnotic

summer breeze flows in

at a summer retreat.

they danced

in gentle grooves

as the music played

in the background.

later she took him inside

and opened the door

to the room that opened his soul

in the mists of the beautification of love.

GENTLE SWAY

i wonder

if your eyes are blue,

brown, or hazel.

could they be fresh

to read my poems

after i have given them to you?

these words

are meant to open

your thoughts

so that my feelings

run through your palms

and drift into your heart

like a raft at sea.

i cannot help but think

what love might actually be like,

it goes with the territory

when it comes to sensitive poetry.

now that your thumbs

rest on the beats of my heart – i need this escape.

your eyes are here to find

my way through all the battles.

SO SEXY TO FEEL

here in the mythical

and the magical –

a little honey

of natural infusion

to hang out

on the patio bar

to cure past

summer storms.

in a drunk dance,

she took the hand,

led the dance steps

in all the twirls

with her dress in flight.

the view of flowers

in wooden boxes

off the rails

were like fragrances of a necklace

she put around my neck.

all them colors

poured into my soul

in all the spectrums,

as she spilled out

from all of her sun’s rays

to taste her reality

through my fingers.